Don't Forget Me
by Shasta627
Summary: Esteban rounded the corner and paused, watching them all sit and laugh together. They were the picture perfect image of what a family should be. Happy, loving, carefree—nothing could've made the image more complete. Not even him. [One-shot. Teen Esteban angst.]


**_A/N: Written for Day 7 of EoA Appreciation Week 2k19~! The prompt was Royalty, and this fic was inspired by my amazing friend missnobodynobodius 's beautiful and angsty artwork she posted on twitter a while ago (which you should go check out bcuz all her art is breathtaking), and when I saw it my heart broke for Esteban and I wanted to explore more of what he must've felt and how he viewed his family during the middle of his teenage life-crisis, and so ta-da~! This fic was born! _**

**_(I feel like I should add a disclaimer though: I do not share the same thoughts and opinions as Esteban does on the royal family in this fic, I was just simply trying to write things from his point of view, which means it's very biased and hopefully accurate to the feelings of a lost, confused, teenage boy)._**

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The palace was quiet and empty. Though it was still evening no one was milling around, having already retired for the night or else just remaining out of sight, deciding to stay in the confines of the warmly lit rooms rather than roam the cold, dark palace hallways. Esteban, however, was the only one still wandering the vacant corridors. He'd just returned from spending the entire afternoon messing around with Victor, and was grateful his grandparents hadn't been waiting by the palace steps, ready to scold him for returning hours later than he originally told them he would. Yet as he walked through the vast building, he began wondering where the rest of his family could be. His abuelos weren't in the parlor, where he knew they liked to read or quietly talk in the waning hours of the light, and he'd already checked the council room, where his tío and tía were normally preparing diplomatic papers and documents for upcoming meetings. He hadn't seen his little cousins yet either, who were often running around playing some whimsical make believe game Elena's mind had conjured up.

But from around the corner laughter rang out and echoed in the long corridor, and Esteban slowed his pace. Perhaps they were in the dining room still? He approached the doorway and peered around the corner, remaining hidden in the shadows, and sure enough, there sat his aunt, uncle, cousins, and grandparents, all gathered together around the table and laughing at how Elena and his tío Raul were fighting over the last of the cherries.

They were the picture perfect image of what a family should be. Happy, loving, carefree—nothing could've made the image more complete.

Not even him.

Esteban folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall, his contented mood rapidly plummeting into something akin to jealousy. Watching them all sit together, so cheerful and content, without a worry in the world…

It reminded him all too much of what he'd lost.

Esteban often tried to steer clear of this train of thought. It did nothing but bring about feelings of resentment and guilt, but every so often he couldn't help himself. If only his parents were still alive, life would be perfect again. But instead they'd been taken away from him in the blink of an eye, and all of a sudden he was forced to say goodbye all too soon, knowing he would never feel their loving embrace or see their kind smiles, that the twinkle in their eyes would be forever dulled, and that their words of love would never reach his ears again.

Esteban bit the inside of his cheek, trying to beat back the growing sliver of longing that stirred inside his chest. It didn't bother him. He wasn't going to _let _it bother him, at least, but it wasn't like he really cared anyway. He was being weak. It had happened a long time ago, and Victor would no doubt jeer at him for being such an emotional sap. He didn't _need _parents. His whole family always scolded him enough to fill that role. He knew his grandparents did their best trying to raise him, and he understood and appreciated that the older he got, but they could never _truly _replace his parents, no matter how hard they tried.

He didn't really even need _any _of his family, to be honest. He could survive on his own without them. He had never really felt like he'd belonged anyway, despite the fact that he was royal and lived in the palace with the rest of them. Everyone told him he was loved and cherished, but if he were to disappear would they really care? Or would they be grateful to no longer have him as a thorn in their side?

He allowed himself to think his abuelos might care, but knew he'd always be second in their eyes regardless. Elena would always be the favorite grandchild, no matter what he did or how hard he tried. He couldn't even count all the times they'd scolded him and attributed it to the fact that he wasn't as good as his younger cousin. _Why aren't you more mature like Elena? Why can't you be like her?_ his grandparents always said. _Elena wouldn't pull a stunt like this! You're the older one, why can't you act more responsible? _

Esteban grit his teeth as the memory of their rebukes rang through his head, heat coursing through his veins. Didn't they understand that being adventurous and wild was just a part of who he was? He enjoyed all the escapades and pranks he pulled with Victor, and they couldn't keep him from having fun with their rules and admonishment. Besides, it was the quickest way he could get attention fully on himself, even if it was just for reprimanding purposes. Otherwise everyone was always focused on Elena.

_Elena._ His little cousin. She was no better than he was. She was spoiled, annoying, and too cheerful and trusting to be a realistic leader. She was just a child, eager to learn and explore yet still so incredibly naive, her curiosity untainted by the harshness of life that he'd already endured.

To put it simply, it just wasn't _fair_. _Elena _got to be the heir to the throne and rule Avalor, _Elena _was the golden child who could do no wrong, and _Elena _was the one who still had loving, _living_ parents.

The burning of unshed tears behind his eyes only fueled Esteban's mental tirade. What did he do wrong? Why was _he _the one who had to endure the misery of life, while she and Isabel got to revel in its glory? He didn't deserve any of this. He always tried to do his best, to make his family proud, to be liked and seen by others, but no matter how hard he tried he just ended up disappointing people instead. He would always be _el segundo_, to Victor, to Elena, and to the rest of the world as well, it seemed.

He glanced into the room again, wondering one last time whether he should just forgo it all and join them. To just set aside all his untapped anger and simply pretend like he wasn't struggling, like he wasn't hurting inside, an unbearable ache of listlessness and confusion that simply grew more burdenful everyday, weighing down his heart and clouding his mind.

Esteban turned away, deciding to retreat to his room rather than face them instead. _I don't want to spoil all their fun,_ he thought bitterly, ignoring the pang in his heart that yearned for the inclusion and acceptance he could find with them. Though his words were thought in irritation, Esteban knew, deep down, that they loved him, despite all his reservations and doubts. But whether he was ready to accept their love was something he had yet to decide.

He rounded the corner and began the trek through the long, dark hallways of the palace back to his room. Was he missing out on much? Perhaps, but it was just one night. There would be plenty of other days, other opportunities, for him to join them if he ever wanted.

Besides, it wasn't like they were going anywhere any time soon.

He had plenty of time.


End file.
